The Man Within The Smile
by Anutheal
Summary: WIP It was all a mask, all a facade to allure them away from the real him. The man who was so much like the earth he stared at now ... cold. Continuation to Man Behind the Smile. HM
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: The Man Within the Smile

**Summary**: It was all a mask, all a facade to allure them away from the real him. The man who was so much like the earth he stared at Continuation to Man Behind the Smile. HM. This is a continuation, not a sequel.  
**Rated: M for future chapter, romance, angst, you name it. Scenes of child abuse and drug use **(not used by Hawkeye of course)  
**Authors Note: Of coarse a lovely thanks to Hawks Soul and 4077Hawk for nagging me to start this, and Hawk's Soul for filling in for my beta. And here it is. Sorry for the crap before the author's note…I always put that on the first chapter of a story.**

**From Chapter 30 of the Man Behind the Smile  
** She went on to explain everything that happened, the arguments, their kiss over the hill, Sidney's opinions, everything she knew.

When she was finished, neither spoke, both lost in their own thoughts.

"O.R?" he asked at last.

"We've managed, but I'm glad you're alright."

An awkward silence ensued, before finally Hawkeye leaned over and hugged her again, "I love you, Margaret," he whispered softly, placing a gentle kiss on the nape of her neck.

She responded instantly and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him softly. "I love you too," she pulled away briefly. "It's not over."

Hawkeye stared at her. "What isn't over?"

She shook her head, "never mind, just shut up and kiss me," she pulled him to her tightly.

He didn't need to know what she thought. She knew his battle wasn't over yet, even if he thought it was. It was still raging, each side tugging and pulling, waiting for the other to give. She just hoped the right side won.

**Chapter 1**

**The War Rages On**

Hawkeye was the first one to pull away, "Someone's coming," he whispered breathlessly. Instantly they sprang apart like two teenagers caught making out in his parent's car.

Charles casually sauntered in, "Hello," his eyes lingered briefly on Hawkeye then on Margaret's red cheeks. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

"Major," Margaret said tersely, standing and straightening her uniform, "good day," and stalked out, nodding only slightly at a half amused and half bemused Hawkeye.

"Captain, good to see you're awake…."

"Don't flatter me, Charles," he smirked batting his eye lashes, "it does wonders for your character, wouldn't want you going soft on us,"

Charles chuckled, "Pierce, I'm a Winchester; we're the only living humans who _have_ character."

At that moment Potter and Sidney ran in, "Pierce!" there was a father's scold in the elderly Colonel's voice.

"Colonel." he nodded his head in acknowledgement.

Potter looked like he was going to explode at him, but the innocent look stopped him, "Post-op, Pierce."

"But-."

"No arguments."

"Fine," he said standing abruptly, he stalked over until he was facing Sidney, "Quarantining the insane…you should know better," and waltzed out.

"He's not going to post-op is he?" Sidney already knew the answer.

"Nope."

………

Daniel watched Hawkeye grudgingly make his way towards Potter's office, for who knows what reason, dragging his feet along the ground, muttering obscenities in Italian. He didn't look much different, except that he'd lost weight (which he didn't need to, so now he looked sickly frail) and he didn't seem to be acting different, but now Daniel wasn't sure what 'normal' was for Hawkeye.

Once Hawkeye was through the door he silently left the Officers Club, he had become a good customer there. He had real American money, not army script.   
He stood uncertainly outside Potter's office, not exactly sure what to expect. Inside he could hear Hawkeye talking to Radar and the sound of music.

………  
Hawkeye left behind a dumb-founded Sidney, Potter and Charles.

"Well, he seems normal," was Charles' first comment.

"With Hawkeye…nothing's normal, anymore."

Potter sighed and pored them all a drink, "What's gonna happen, Sidney?"

"I wish I could tell you," he sat on the end of Hawkeye's bed, "I have no idea what's going through his head."

"You _are _the psychiatrist," Charles said naturally insulting Sidney for not being able to solve this puzzle.

Sidney sighed, "But I don't think I'm the psychiatrist Hawkeye needs right now." He nodded towards Daniel who was marching in the same direction Hawkeye went; "now that would be an interesting encounter to see."

"To bad we wouldn't understand any of it." Potter chuckled and pulled out a cigar lighting it up, "God Lord, do those two give me a headache."

………  
Daniel wasn't surprised to see Hawkeye in Potter's office, talking quietly to Radar. As he walked in, the young corporal sent him a nervous look and scuttled out with a mutter to Hawkeye, "I'll get right on it, Hawk."

"Hawkeye," Daniel said simply, walking over to Potter's liquor cabinet and helping himself to a belt, "long time no see, eh?"   
Hawkeye didn't say anything, just silently took the glasses from him and poured him a drink.

"Hawkeye," a long sigh followed.   
Hawkeye stared at him. Daniel had used that exact voice when he was disappointed. He hated that voice, usually because he was the cause of it. But he refused to loose ground in this silent battle, "I'm sorry, but…" Daniel moved so he was leaning on the desk next to his son.

"But what?"

"I…" Daniel was going to keep his mouth shut until Hawkeye decided to talk to him, even if it was short and cold. "I was scared," he turned his head away, almost defiantly.  
Daniel still didn't say anything, at first, then: "Let's go outside. We can talk about this later."

………  
He watched from the Officers' Club as BJ and Hawkeye calmly walked towards the Swamp, laughing. That's what got him, he was _laughing. _A moment ago he would barely speak and now he was _laughing _as if nothing was wrong. It didn't make sense….God, he needed another drink.

………  
"So," he casually filled his glass with gin, "anything new and interesting happen while I was gone?"

BJ hated how calm he acted, as if he was on R&R and just got back, "Oh, not much, but you did miss a very good-tempered Charles, I could even call him nice…that is until your Father arrived."

"Oh…" he commented forcing a smile.

"He didn't take to kindly to being showed up by an Italian. You never told me you lived there."

"You never asked."

"It's not something that casually comes up in a conversation."

"Mm." He knew where the conversation was going to head to.   
"You speak Italian, then?"

They both knew BJ already knew the answer to that.   
"Yeah…imagine that, an Italian knowing Italian, funny world, isn't it?"

BJ stayed silent for a moment, "Hawkeye?"

"Not now," he threw himself on his back, wincing at the rough contact. Hawkeye knew it was going to come up eventually. But right now he just wanted to sleep.

...  
It didn't take long for him to drift into slumber, stretched out on his back, hands behind his head, ankles crossed at the end of long legs.

_Boy does he sleep a lot…._BJ thought watching his breathing steady, eyes closed lightly.

BJ sighed, he was afraid. Hawkeye was doing exactly what he had been doing before all of this. Hiding. Hiding behind jokes, sarcasm, wit, any thing. He was just hiding. Hiding behind a card board cut out of who he wanted to be.

Just then a soft knock on the door startled him from his thoughts.

"Captain Hunnicutt, Captain Pierce…Wounded…it's a heavy load!"

Hawkeye snapped awake, throwing on his jacket and boots, and then bolting out the door. He had never been a heavy sleeper, his earlier years accounting for that.

………  
The scrub room was an interesting scene. The Characters? Two well-trained Italians, known for their skills and gorgeous looks. A jealous, slightly-balding, pompous, arrogant prick, known for his 'I'm-better-than-you' attitude. The Problem? Jealousy.

"Well, this should be rather interesting, should it?" Charles plastered on a fake grin as Hawkeye followed Daniel into the scrub room, "Didn't I hear you correctly, Dr. Pierce? Never seen your son work, hm? He's very good." It almost seemed as if Charles was trying to create a wedge between the two Pierces.

"I'm flattered," Hawkeye glared.

"I'm sure he is," Daniel hid a smile.

"I learned from the best," Hawkeye raised an eyebrow and leaned towards Daniel to whisper in his ear, "Guardare fuori per il calvo un. ...He è una puntura reale. (Watch out for the bald one…he is a royal prick."

Daniel snorted and whispered back, "È qualunque buono? (He any good?)

They both turned so they were shoulder to shoulder, so Charles couldn't see Hawkeye lifted his hand and tilt it back and forth in the so-so motion, "dunque-cosí (so-so)."

The other doctors (and nurses) were watching with very amused grins.

**End of Chapter 1**

**The War Rages On**


	2. Inside

**Hello EVERYONE. I'M BACK FROM DISNEY WORLD!**

**Did I have a good time, you ask?**

**Well, let us just say that it made my vacation to have my picture taken with the marble sculpture of Alan Alda's head.**

**Thanks to Steph36 for coming back as my beta.**

**Chapter 2 **

**Inside **

O.R. was crowded, not really with patients, but with doctors. Hawkeye and Daniel were working back to back, randomly throwing out comments to each other. On the opposite side of the room Charles and BJ were working, glaring and spitting sarcasm. Potter was off to the side, watching the whole situation with an amused glint in his eye.

Margaret smiled up at Hawkeye when he began humming, "That's Amore", under his breath.

"Clamp," he interrupted his own singing. "Damn."

"What?" Daniel just finished his own patient. Snapping on a new pair of gloves, he watched Hawkeye's skillful hands dance across the patient before him. "Bleeder?"

"Loosing pulse," the nurse said softly already knowing the reaction Hawkeye would give wouldn't be good.

"Damn it," he whispered heatedly. "Get me the rib spreader."

"Pulse is gone."

"What are you going to do?" Daniel asked.

Hawkeye didn't answer as he began working.

"Open heart message?"

The rest of the staff had already seen him produce such a miracle before and had complete confidence that he could do it yet again.

Daniel watched Hawkeye easily do what had to be done with a mixture of shock and pride.

"Pulse is back." The nurse said softly and the O.R. in its entirety relaxed. "Good job, Doctor."

Hawkeye ignored the compliments directed at him and focused all his attention on the patient, but Daniel could see the faintest trace of pink on his defined cheek bones. Whether it was pride or embarrassment he couldn't say.

"Bene fatto, il figlio (well done, son)." Daniel clapped him on the back with a prideful smile.

Hawkeye smiled back then grinned wickedly. "With enough practice you could be just as good," and he winked.

………

O.R. was over and the doctors and Margaret lounged comfortably in the scrub room.

"How are you, Dr. Pierce?" Charles grinned, "I know you're used to working with much easier conditions."

"Actually, I used to work in Emergency back in Italy. The hospitals weren't that great, and it wasn't too different."

Hawkeye chuckled as he stood, pleased with the humbled expression on Charles' face. "I'm going for a walk," and he left.

Everyone watched him go – even Charles – with concern and fear in their eyes.

A few moments later as the group began to separate Margaret slipped off to follow him. She knew exactly where he would go.

………

She wasn't entirely surprised to see him there, pacing the length of his hidden sanctuary. He looked restless as his long strides carried him a few yards before he briskly spun on his heel and stalked the other direction, repeating the motion. "You're going to wear a hole in the earth at the rate you're going." He froze and spun around to stare at her, eyes wild with an undistinguishable emotion and then he snorted and resumed his pacing, resembling a wild, caged panther. "What's wrong?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I was fine?"

"No."

"Then I'm not going to answer you."

"Why?"

"Because…" G_reat answer, Ben_. "I don't want to lie to you…" S_mooth recovery_.

"Are you saying you don't want to tell me what's wrong?"

He remained silent. _Answer her, damn it._ "Yes." _Nice going! That was the WRONG answer, moron! _

Margaret sighed. _What is going through that head of his?_

"If you don't want me to stay, just say so. I'll leave you alone if that's what you want."

_And now you scared her away. _

When he didn't answer she took that as an indication that she should leave. She didn't realize then that that was the worst thing she could have done.

Now he was lost.

………

Daniel found him later that night half-drunk, half-unconscious in the Swamp put into uncontrollable laughter by something an even drunker BJ said. It was nice to here him laugh, even if it was drug-induced. "Well, now I know you weren't lying when you said you drank a lot."

"Here, here," Hawkeye raised his glass.

"How are you two?" he asked pouring his own glass of gin and chuckling.

"Peachy," Hawkeye giggled again at nothing.

BJ laughed even harder falling off the bed in the process. That sent Hawkeye deeper into his drunkenness and soon he was on the floor next to his fallen comrade. Daniel just shook his head, amused, "you two are impossible."

The two of them made no answer to that because by then both were too far gone into their alcohol induced madness to hear anything.

Rolling his eyes, Daniel helped both men stumble into their cots and left them to their own self torment.

………

Margaret shouldn't have been surprised to see the elder Pierce there, nursing a cup of cold coffee in the Mess Tent at 3am, but she was. "Good morning, Daniel."

She slid onto the seat across from him, sipping hew own coffee, the amber liquid going un-tasted into her knotted stomach that was clenched with nerves. Why was she nervous?

_I hate this… _

"What are you doing up, Margaret?"

"Wounded in 45 minutes."

He looked up, surprised. "Already?"

It was only then did she realize how foreign all of this must be for him. The unusual hours, the nonstop wounded, the fast pace work – it wasn't anything like a usual operating room. She watched him curiously when he just sighed and sipped the coffee again. "Have you woken Ben yet?"

"No, Charles kept complaining about those "uncivilized mongrels" so I can only imagine the hangover he's going to have." She smiled fondly just thinking of the two of them.

"Why do they do it?"

"What?"

"Drink like that?"

Her smile faded and she sighed, "It helps them forget. Everyone has their own ways. Charles has his music, Potter has his painting and riding, Radar has his animals, the nurses have each other and Klinger….well, Klinger has his….dresses." She sighed again, "I think…I think it's a lot harder on Hawkeye and BJ then it is on everyone else."

His dark blue eyes met hers in confusion.

"Potter has been doing this for years and he's an army general. He's grown used to it. Charles…I think it's hard on Charles…but he has money. I don't think he was raised learning such compassionate emotions that I know he is capable of. I've seen them before, but, he just doesn't strike me as the type to grieve for people he doesn't know.

"But BJ and Hawkeye….BJ has a little girl at home, every time he sees a little girl I'm sure he imagines Erin, how far away he is from her. Hawkeye….is just Hawkeye."

Daniel chuckled. "I think I know what you mean."

They fell into silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

"Well," Daniel stood, stretching the kinks out of his back, "I think we better go wake the Sleeping Beauties before the choppers do."

Charles was already gone. That was nice. Daniel grinned viciously and chuckled evilly to himself.

"TIME TO RISE AND SHINE, MADAMS!" he flicked on the light as he bellowed this, and then acting like a bustling maid began pulling off their blankets. "The day is new at 3 this morning, the sun's almost shining, the birds haven't started singing yet, but they will!"

Double groans met his boisterous comments and Hawkeye made a vain attempt at pulling his pillow over his head.

"Uh, uh, uhhh…the wounded are in, ready and waiting, or they will be when they actually get here. You two sleepy heads it's time to get up! Up, Up, UP!"

"Hawkeye," BJ groaned, from where he had his hands placed over his ears, "is he always this cheery at three in the morning?"

Hawkeye muttered something unconceivable before trying to curl up into a ball and bury his head in his arms.

"Oh, no lei fa non. (Oh, no you don't)!" He grabbed Hawkeye's feet and pulled them over the side his body, forcing his body to sit upright. Daniel laughed, taking extra care to be very loud (and obnoxious).

It took Daniel the better part of 20 minutes to usher the two of them to the showers where he dumped cold water over their heads. When both were at least a little better, he managed to get them dressed and to the scrub room before everyone else arrived.

"I hate you." Hawkeye said. He looked totally serious, except for the annoyed and amused glint in his eye.

Daniel laughed again (still very loud and obnoxious) and the two of them groaned in unison before plopping down on the benches. It was going to be a very fun O.R. session.

**End Chapter 2 **

**Inside **

**TBC **


	3. It Was His Fault

**At the moment, I am beta-less, so if anyone is interested (or still reading) just email me or drop me a PM or review!**

**No excuse for not updating this chapter, just my laziness.**

**Chapter 3**

**It Was His Fault and the Dreams about It**

Daniel should have known he was hoping for too much. Even before OR began everything seemed to be going downhill. Hawkeye lost two patients. One looked barely older than 13 or 14. He didn't speak much after that. He jaw was set into a defiant clench that refused any matter of comfort or condolence. He kept his eyes locked on the patient, determined not to murder another one. _I've broken enough people's hearts. Why destroy even more families._ His voice was tight with tension and unexplainable anger; angry at the war, at the patients, at the doctors, at the nurses….at himself.

"This one is done, I can take another," that was the most he had spoken in the last five minutes, and the utterly silent OR blanched at the tone in his voice: sharp, cold, and bitter.

"Take a break, Pierce, you've worked enough," if Hawkeye noticed the commanding tone in the Colonel's voice he gave no indication not did he seem to care that they were all staring at him, worry coating their features.

"I said I can take another one."

"And I told you to stop."

Their eyes met from across the room, a silent battle of wills, just waiting for one side to loose enough ground. Hawkeye was aware of dark orbs burning into his back. Squaring off his shoulders defiantly he snapped off his gloves and spun on his heel leaving the OR. Seeing the pain and desperation in his eyes, no one had the heart to follow him.

………

_Murder, murder, murder…._that's exactly what he was….a _murderer. _If only he tried a little harder. He should have seen the shrapnel stuck in the lung. The minute piece of metal tearing away at the tender tissue that created the fragile little human body that he couldn't save. He was useless. What did the army need of him, anyway? Some doctor he was. Killing two people in mere hours, he didn't deserve his degree. He didn't deserve to have the honor to be called the saver of lives. Frank Burns was probably even better than him.

_I'm a murderer. _He ran a hand through his hair in aggravation, the silver streaked raven locks falling carelessly into his eyes only for him to brush them away again. _I should have done better…._

_Jackson was right…..I'm no doctor…_

With that revelation set into his mind he plopped down on his hill again, wrapping tired arms around his knees, drawing them to his chest he rested his weary head and let his mind wander through his own guilt and pain. He knew that if any one would care he would just scare them away….

_Adetoun_

_C__arly__e_

_Margaret…_

That one was the one that hurt the worst. He really believed that he had finally found someone that would love him, oddities, insecurities, fears, horrors, nightmares, enemies, idiosyncrasies and all. But he was wrong…again. He went over the scene in his head, over and over again looking for something that he did wrong. Something that drove her away. Something that made her stop loving him…that is if she ever loved him at all.

Maybe it was just another façade. Another lie that he was forced to live through….

He realized after he relived that moment that everything he did was his fault. He did speak to her when she asked if he was alright. He didn't tell her that she didn't have to leave when she asked. He didn't tell her that at that moment, with all those fears and nightmares still swimming in his head, all the horrors and pain he lived through still freshly scared on his mind….at that moment…he needed her more than anything in the world.

He didn't tell her that.

So it was his fault.

Like it always was.

………

He dreamed.

She was there. And he smiled. She was his first love. His light in darkened times. His princess. His Adetoun. It was amazing the light-hearted times one could have chained to a wall and dining on moldy bread and musty water. She never did tell him why she came to see him so often. It would disgrace her and her family if she was found socializing with the American slave. The punishments for her dishonorable acts would be vicious…if she got caught. She was the daughter of the wealthiest family in the colony; one of the only African families in the colony. At the time Africa was ruled mostly by Europeans so something that didn't seem normal, wasn't actually that strange.

"What are you doing back here?" she proceeded to unlock him from his chains handing him ointment for the bruises on his neck. If he was lucky it wouldn't scar.

"I bring food." Her English was broken and no better than his grasp of her language, but some how they managed to communicate. The 13-year-old took the offered tray, it wasn't much, and it didn't look very appetizing, but it would sustain him.

"Ikati better?" Ikati was the Zulu word for cat. He wasn't quite sure he pronounced the word right, but she understood him none the less.

"Dead," that was self-explanatory; she used her fingers to draw an 'x' over her heart. She was very sad.

At that moment he would have sought to comfort her, but tonight was different. The guards stood outside waiting for her and she knew it. Their relationship, friendship, love, whatever it was to be called was found out.

He never did see her again.

………

The scene shifted.

He was in her apartment. She was crying and it was his fault.

"I'm sorry, Hawkeye," the words were meant to comfort him, to somehow ease the pain of his broken heart, but they did anything but, "I just can't live with this tension…this fear."

"Carlye…"

"No, I'm not going to risk getting hurt……on your account."

He withdrew sharply as if it was a physical slap in the face, "I think I understand." He turned his head away, "I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you."

………

Now he was back in Korea. Was he still dreaming? He couldn't tell anymore. He was still in his clearing. Still fighting with inner turmoil that threatened to drive him mad, except this time Margaret was with him.

"If you don't want me to stay, just say so. I'll leave you alone if that's what you want."

He didn't answer and neither did she say anything, but she didn't need to. He could see the hurt and pain and confusion in her eyes. It broke his heart to think that he was the cause of such pain. Even as he watched her retreating back he wanted to say something. Call her name. Just tell her that he loved her. But he was afraid of what the response would be…or if he'd get a response at all.

………

He wasn't sure what woke him. Maybe it was the morning sun creeping over the hill. His hill. Maybe it was the obnoxious sound of shelling miles off into the distance. Maybe and most likely, it was his own mind, his internal clock kicking on, telling him that his habit of being forced awake at dawn a long time ago had yet to be broken. Either way, he was now awake, stiff, but awake. It seemed his external wounds had mostly healed. Not accounting for the dislocated shoulder that was stiff every morning, the 6 broken ribs and 2 cracked ribs, and the internal bruising and the torn muscle, other than that…well…he was fine.

But he had come to this conclusion a long time ago.

He misbehaved. That's why he was beaten…

It was his fault.

**End Chapter 3**

**It Was His Fault and the Dreams about It**

**TBC**


	4. Fine

**Author's Note: **It's been a year – yes, I know. I'm sorry. Excuses: none, just lazy, lack of interest, no inspiration – heh I gave you some excuses anyway.

I finally got back on something close to a MASH kick when I got a lovely review on the first part that made me want to continue because it just made me so happy. That and I went back and read the first few chapters of the Man behind the Smile and decided that my writing was just so atrocious that I needed to show everyone that I improved … sort of.

**As for length:** I don't plan to have it very long - 10 chapters at most. There's not really a big elaborate plot to this one so I'm gonna finish it up in a couple of chapters.

Chapter 4

Fine

If he had ever seen such a look of panic and total disarray it would have been now. The choppers had landed at the bay – he could see them taking off again in the distance – doctors, nurses, soldiers, they were running everywhere, scattered like mice across a playing field. That could only mean one thing – wounded.

He jumped into action, ignoring his still stiff and tense muscles. Questioning looks were thrown in his direction, but they were ignored and no one vocalized their opinions just glad to have him back in OR. _Shit … _the doctors were already in OR, it must have been going on for awhile because post-op was almost filled.

"Damn it, Pierce, get your ass in here, now!"

Daniel looked up in surprise at the sudden shouting of his name – he was pretty sure he was already in "here".

"Hawkeye!"

"Sorry, Colonel," he muttered, "out for tea – Klinger, patient."

"Right on it, sir."  
There was only silence for a while, no one speaking all too intent on the work in front of them. As Daniel's patient was taken away and another one placed in front of him he leaned back every so slightly just far enough to whisper into his son's ear, "Preoccupisi per dirmi dove eravate?

(Care to tell me where you were?)"

"No."

Daniel balked. That wasn't exactly the response he was hoping for.

"Ero... Stavo andando per una camminata (I was… I was going for a walk …)"

"Una camminata di mezzanotte, eh? (a midnight walk, eh?)"

"We should continue working on the patients."

That was a dismissal if he ever saw one.

And no more was said about it.

………

"Pierce … Hawkeye." Having two Pierces was getting more and more confusing, "come with me."

Hawkeye visibly shrank – like a child that knew he was in trouble, he followed the Colonel into his office without a word on his own behalf – he sort of cowered, "Colonel -." He began as soon as the door swung shut behind him.

"Cut it, Pierce."

He shrank even further.

"Did you even THINK about what you were doing last night? We had no idea where you went; if I've ever seen something as foolish as this I would be astounded. That was stupid."

"I'm sorry, Colon-."

"Like horse feathers, you're sorry. I bet given the chance you would do it again, wouldn't you?"

"Most likely."  
"That was a RETHORICAL question!"

"Sorry, _sir."_

Potter visibly grew angrier. He wasn't even taking him seriously, "Hawkeye …"

Hawkeye looked up, surprised by the sudden softness that entered the Colonel's voice.

"Hawkeye … you have no idea how worried we are. Especially after you went missing the first time. What if he got you again? We didn't know if we could have found you. That was selfish. Did you not even think about the rest of us back here at home base?"

Hawkeye didn't respond.

"And if you _ever_ do **that** again I'm putting you under _house_ _arrest_ for the rest of your **goddamn** life! I'm I understood?"

"Yes, sir!" he mocked saluted him before leaving. The colonel was understood.

Perfectly understood.

………

Was he being selfish? He supposed he was. He didn't really think about the others at camp. It never actually crossed his mind that he would be missed, or that he would be gone that long for that matter. He really had no intention of staying out all night. He had no intention of making everyone worried. It was a mistake on his part, understood.

But that fear … or the lack there off for that matter … where was it? He didn't understand. He should be afraid that Jackson would come back, but why wasn't he. He was locked up … again. That's right, but why would that stop the fear. He was afraid the first time he was locked up, and then he got again … so shouldn't he have that same fear installed within him now?

He didn't. Jackson was far from his mind. Was he over Jackson? Was he over his slavery days? Onto new days? Less painful days? Margaret … oh, Margaret. He forgot about her too. Why was he forgotting these things. These were the things that caused him pain, Margaret.

He heart clenched at the thought of her. How she had changed since when they first came here.

………

_"Pierce!"_

_"Yes, madam?"_

_"What do you think you are doing?"_

_"Why, miss, here I am just watering these here tomaters." The southern accent that he had obtained didn't fit his so Italian face at all. _

_"It's against regulations to have things growing in the compound. Especially native things, they could be poisoned!"_

_"Poisoned?" the accent dropped._

_"Yes, these … Koreans, do that you know. Grow poisoned food."_

_"These Koreans, eh? Never realized you were one for generalizations, Hotlips."_

_"It's Major Houlihan!"_

_"Whatever, Hotlips." He had then promptly through the still flowing into her shirt._

………

If he remembered correctly, Frank tried to make his life hell for days after that – he failed of course. But Hawkeye applauded him for effort. God, Margaret had changed.

………

_"Hawkeye?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"Why small spaces …? Why do you fear them so much?"_

_They were sitting against the walls of the almost empty OR except for the patient across the room._

_"It's an irrational fear, love. That's why it's called a phobia."_

_"I've read, well, I've talked to Sidney, whose read … that … some people get phobias for some reason. Like something happened to them that small spaces remind them of-."_

_"It's an irrational fear."_

_"Oh – I just thought."_

_"It's just a phobia."_

………

At that moment he had seriously considered telling her something. Anything. Everything. Just telling her, talking to her. Letting her know that he loved her so much. But … he never did … he never could … all for some stupid fear that seemed to have disappeared in the last few hours out here alone. Maybe she was right.

_"You're alright, it's okay, you're fine."_

The way she had coaxed him from his nightmares without even realizing. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was fine after all.

**TBC**


End file.
